Pegasus Rebound
by Georgia82
Summary: Returning Atlantis to the Pegasus Galaxy leads to disaster, and as Shep & Co. pick up the pieces, they find themselves in the midst of another war with an enemy capable of even more destruction than the Wraith. Shep/OC
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer:I do not own the Stargate franchise or Stargate: Atlantis. I, in fact, own very little, so I hope the owners don't mind me having a little fun with their creations. I'm only going to be borrowing Atlantis for a little while. I promise to put everyone back where I found them! However, if I did own SGA, I would treat it better than MGM!!

A/N:I intend for this fic to be set after the series finale. I have no idea what the powers that be have planned for the movie, but in my world, after some major struggle, Atlantis goes back to the Pegasus Galaxy. True to form, even coming back to Pegasus cannot be easy for our crew. They encounter new friends, new problems, new enemies, and find themselves in the middle of another war. I also intend for this fic to be a Shep/OC story, with whatever other pairings come along the way! Reviews are most welcome, but please be gentle. I don't have a beta reader, so all mistakes I'll have to own myself! Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 1: Every Adventure Has a Beginning.....I Just Have To Wonder Why They Are Always Painful

Richard Woolsey was first aware of a loud ringing in his left ear. It was like someone was using a tuning fork to tune his brain. The ringing made his mind sluggish and foggy, distracting him so he could only focus on how much the sound annoyed him. He realized then that all he needed to do was wake up and figure out what was making the noise. Then it occurred to him that he did not remember going to sleep. In fact, he was sure he did not remember going to sleep. Something was certainly wrong, but his mind was too muddled to work it out. He tried to force himself through the fogginess, tried to focus on remembering what he could. The more he tried, the more he realized that beside the loud ringing in his ear, the entire left side of his head was throbbing. As he became more aware of the pain, he finally found the will to move past the fog and open his eyes.

Disorientated, he tried to focus his vision, but he couldn't hold it for very long. He knew he was lying on his back, on what appeared to be a hard, dirt surface. He tried to look beyond his immediate surroundings, but could not focus on anything. He shifted his weight under his arms and tried to prop himself up, but found the movement made his head swim.

"If I were you, I'd remain lying down a bit longer. It will speed your recovery, and I doubt we'll be going anywhere for awhile," a voice to his right said. It was female, but not Teyla or anyone else he recognized. The voice was soft, with an accent he could not place.

He tried to turn his head to the right to see where the voice came from, but the movement made his vision black out at the edges. "Who's there?" was all he could think to call out, although he could not be sure how loudly his voice came out. He found his jaw hurt as well, and he had the iron taste of blood in his mouth. He was now certain he had suffered some sort of head injury.

He heard movement to his right, and the voice was now much closer. "I am called El. We are currently being held in jail. I believe it was the Dockmaster, though I cannot be certain."

"What was the Dockmaster?" Woosley asked, forcing his eyes shut to stop the spinning.

He felt the woman's hand touch his wrist. His spinning head made him too sickened to react, but he felt her fingers press gently, and he figured she was only checking his pulse. "I believe he is behind our incarceration. Just before I lost consciousness myself, I was at the Dockmaster's, and I remember seeing you leaving his office right as I was coming to meet him. Therefore, I can only assume that you and I both met out current fate while we were visiting the Dockmaster." She withdrew her hand from his wrist, evidently satisfied that his condition was improving.

As if it received a shock, his brain kick started and memory came flooding back. The urgency of the situation rushed adrenaline through his veins. He tried to raise himself up again, and while his head was still spinning, he found he could sit all the way up. "Yes, I remember. I was at Dockmaster Krem's office trying to negotiate the release of some of the villagers."

The woman laughed. "I take it you were not successful?"

Woolsey smirked. "No, it would seem not."

"Still, it was honorable for you to try. I am merely a visitor here myself, and it seems the entire area is very much at the mercy of the Dockmaster."

Woolsey tentatively touched the left side of his face. It felt swollen and caked with blood. "I guess it would have been better for us both if I had succeeded. What were you doing at the Dockmaster's?"

"I was trying to negotiate my own passage from this village. When I first came here, I had no idea that I would not be allowed to leave without the approval of the Dockmaster. Come closer here, if you can. I would like to look more closely at your wound."

Woolsey gritted his teeth and tried to scoot himself closer to her side. He could feel his stomach churning and hoped he could make it to her without being sick. He had barely managed one shift before he felt himself meet cold steel.

"Lean a little so that you are directly between the bars." Woolsey did as instructed, and she leaned in, her fingers gently running through the hair at his temple, gently moving over the wound. Her touches were light, but strangely soothing. He felt some of the pain and throbbing subside.

He had time to study her as she worked. Her silvery blond hair was pulled back into a severe plait. Most of her features were hidden under face paint forming strange symbols he did not recognize around her forehead, eyes and cheeks. Strange as the symbols were, he found her eyes equally unusual. The irises were an incredible shade of deep blue, surrounded by a paler blue where the white should be. Woolsey guessed they had not yet encountered her people in the Pegasus Galaxy.

"Will I live?" he asked after some time to break the silence. His mind was moving at light speed with so many questions running through it. He wanted to move on so he could get some answers.

El chuckled softly. "You could probably stand a stitch, but I suspect you shall fully recover." He felt her retreat away from his side of the bars.

He turned his head slowly and observed her examining bars in the far corner of her cell. Her clothing was equally unfamiliar to him. She had on thick black boots, nearly knee high, reminiscent of military boots. She had on a pair of black, cargo-like shorts with pockets everywhere. It looked like she had a thinner, longer pair of shorts on underneath as well, in a pattern that reminded him vaguely of zebra-skin. She was also wearing a fitted black vest, shiny like new leather. One side had a short sleeve, the other no sleeve at all. The exposed arm had more of the strange symbols running down to the elbow. There was an empty holster strapped to her left leg.

"Working on an escape plan?" he asked finally. "I hope I am included."

"I guess that would depend on how useful you would be. Do you have anything on you that could help us get out? Any metals, rope, or weapons?"

Woolsey shook his head carefully. "I don't generally carry those types of things. To be honest, I don't get out much. This, I was unprepared for." He sighed heavily. He heard El return closer to his side of the cell.

Woolsey cast his eyes down as he leaned up against the bars. "Lately, pretty much nothing has been going as planned." He closed his eyes, wary to even think of it. "In fact, pretty much everything has gone wrong, just spiraling out of control."

He felt El reach a hand through the bars and squeeze his shoulder. "Surely, it can't be all that bad?"

"Oh, it can, and I don't even think we've hit bottom yet."

"You and me?"

"No, I was speaking of my team. The people I am usually with."

"Well, if you are with others, perhaps they will come looking for you and rescue us both?" Hope tinged her voice, but Woolsey felt that even she knew it would be a long shot.

"No, we were....separated. Even if they were here, they'd have no way of knowing that I am here too."

"Separated? How? Did the Dockmaster take them like the other villagers?" Woolsey heard an edge in her voice that wasn't there before.

"No, we've pretty much been separated since the start of this whole mess."

El chuckled softly again. "You are a very vague and pessimistic man. In fact, you've not even given me your name yet."

Woolsey offered his hand through the bars. "Richard Woolsey." El looked oddly at his hand, but did not take it. "It's a handshake." She looked puzzled. "As a form of greeting." She mimicked sticking out her hand as well. "Now you take mine," she took his hand, "and we shake them up and down."

"Pleasure to meet you, El."

"Likewise, Richard Woolsey." She released his hand. "As I said, I am El, of no place in particular."

"My people and I are from Atlantis."

"Is that nearby? I thought I'd been to most of the nearby settlements."

Woolsey leveled his gaze at her. "Atlantis. City of the Ancients. Of the Ancestors."

El snorted. "Certainly not of my ancestors. I have not heard of it. Perhaps it is just popular among your people?"

Woolsey grabbed the bars in front of him with both hands and looked at her directly in between the bars. "You have never heard of the Ancients or Ancestors?"

"Well, I feel I know my ancestors very well, but I generally call them by name rather than a catch-all group."

"You have no idea what Atlantis is?"

El seemed amused by his confusion. "I'm afraid not, but there are many settlements. I cannot know them all."

"But I thought pretty much everyone knew about us. Or the Ancestors....the ones who made the rings."

"Rings?" El repeated slowly.

"The Stargates. For travel to other planets."

El looked at him skeptically. "The only way to travel to other planets is by ship. You cannot put on a ring and travel someplace."

"No. Not rings like that. Huge, giant, ancient rings with markings on them. You can input symbols, like an address to another planet, and they will take you there."

El spoke slowly, somewhat warily, "Perhaps you were hit harder than it appears?"

"I need you to listen to me and be very serious with me. I am not crazy. I need to know where I am."

"We have gone over this already. You are in jail."

Woolsey shook his head forcefully and spoke urgently, "I mean what planet? What galaxy? Where are we?"

"This planet is called Tacpo. The village is Erup. Surely you remember coming here?"

He spoke quickly and dismissively. "I came here in an escape pod I had not control over. I thought I would land on a friendly planet, dial a Stargate and be done with it. You are telling me there are no Stargates on this planet or even in this area?"

El looked sympathetic. "The only way I know how to travel to a planet is by ship."

"Sateda, Athos. Have you heard of these places? Genii, surely you know of them?" The picture forming in Woolsey's mind was becoming frightening.

El looked concerned, but still freely answered his question. "I have traveled a great deal, and I have not heard of any of the things you speak of."

Woolsey turned all the way around, and rested his head against the bars. "This is the rock bottom I was talking about. It's probably useless asking, but I take it you've not heard of the Wraith either?"

"Now you are making sense. Of course I know of the Wraith."

Woolsey turned quickly again, relief washing over him. "Finally. I knew we couldn't be too far away. Is the Wraith presence strong here? Do you know if there have been many recent cullings?"

El snorted. "Recent? The last culling in these parts was over a thousand years ago."

Panic set into Woolsey again. Had he somehow traveled into the future? "What do you mean?"

El looked puzzled. "As you should know, we trade very peacefully with them, and to my knowledge this has not changed in the thousand years since the agreement was first made."

Woolsey looked at her astonished. Was this some future where the retrovirus had succeeded? "Trade peacefully? How do you keep them from feeding off the people?"

El looked at him as if he had just sprouted tentacles. "The Wraith do not feed on us, Richard Woolsey."

"What?"

"We must not be talking about the same thing. These are commonly known facts. While it is my understanding that the Wraith do feed on some of the lesser species in the galaxy, they are incapable of feeding on us. We do not sustain their life. How can you not know this?"

Woolsey's head began to pound with migraine strength as he tried to process this information. He moved away from the bars and laid back down on the dirt floor. His thoughts ran in so many directions, all his ideas seemed jumbled.

"Don't worry, Richard Woolsey," El spoke softly in a comforting voice, "I'm working on a plan to get us out of here, and then we can try to sort this out."

Woolsey did not feel comforted. "Yeah, should be a cinch to sort out. I just need to get out of this cell, find out where I am...._when_ I am, find my team, find Atlantis, and find a way home. No problem."

_End Note: Sorry for the slow start. I promise to pick up the pace!_


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer:I do not own the Stargate franchise or Stargate: Atlantis. I, in fact, own very little, so I hope the owners don't mind me having a little fun with their creations. I'm only going to be borrowing Atlantis for a little while. I promise to put everyone back where I found them! However, if I did own SGA, I would treat it better than MGM!!

A/N:Reviews are most welcome, but please be gentle. I don't have a beta reader, so all mistakes I'll have to own myself! Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 2: Shadow of a Man

John Sheppard sat rigidly on a wooden bench, his eyes focused on a spot on the table in front of him, but really seeing nothing. He tightly gripped a spoon-like utensil in his right hand, but his dinner remained barely touched. Around him the tavern's rowdy patrons were blowing off steam after a long day's work in the local mine. Drinking, laughing, gambling and relaxing, the men and women were busy forgetting their troubles. John, however, was disconnected from it all, barely registering what was going on around him. He did not even react when another patron bumped into him. Instead, he remained practically motionless, as if he wasn't even in the same room with all this commotion and life.

He was vaguely aware that Teyla had been trying to get his attention, and he considered just continuing to ignoring her. As her voice became more insistent, it took all the will he had to bring his gaze up to hers.

"Colonel Sheppard, have you even been listening to me?" She paused, and when he did not answer, she continued, "Are you feeling all right? This is the eighth night in a row that you have barely touched your dinner."

"I didn't know you were counting," he responded, lowering his gaze again.

Teyla signed. "Colonel Sheppard, please."

John pushed the plate away. "I guess I'm just not a fan of the local cuisine."

At that moment, one of the more drunken patrons decided to give the barmaid a surprise pinch, causing her to drop her flagon on the table, spilling mead all over John's food and into his lap. He sighed resignedly and rose to step away from the table.

"I'm so sorry, Sheppard," the barmaid apologized as she rushed over to help him.

John took a rag from the woman and halfheartedly wiped the food and mead from his pants. "That's all right, Surtic. I know it wasn't your fault." He finished wiping his pants and handed the rag back to the barmaid.

"I can get you another plate if you're still hungry?" she asked.

"Nah, that's all right. I was done anyway. Just about to head in for the night."

Surtic looked at him disapprovingly. "So soon? It's barely dark outside. You should stay a bit longer, have some mead."

John smiled dimly. "Maybe next time. Good night, Surtic."

"Always next time," she said quietly as she walked away.

John waved to Teyla as he started walking out, but Teyla rose quickly from the table to stop him. "Colonel Sheppard, we have not finished talking."

"Well, that's news to me. I didn't know we were talking about anything."

Teyla crossed her arms. "That is the problem. You will not talk about anything. You work silently by yourself all day. You come here, sit like a robot, eat a few bites and then go straight to your room. You barely talk to me. You barely talk to anyone."

John rolled his eyes. "I guess that means I don't have much to say."

Teyla looked crossly at him. "Oh, I think we have much to discuss. We have never even talked about what has happened."

Anger flickered on John's face, the first sign of life he had shown. "There is nothing to discuss. There is nothing to talk about. There is nothing to go over. I don't want to talk about what happened. I don't even want to think about it. Right now, all we should be concerned about, all we should be focusing on, is getting out of here."

He stepped in closer to her, lowering his voice. "We need to focus on our work, and only our work, so that we can make money. Money is all we should be worried about now. Not about talking, not about how much I'm eating or sleeping. The only thing I care to even consider right now is making enough money to buy our passage off this planet. That is all you should be thinking about too."

Teyla opened her mouth to protest, but at that moment, a man appeared out of the shadows. He was a portly, grubby man, thick with girth, yet still with a power in his movements. He was terribly unclean, as if he had not bathed in months. He rushed forward, his ratty shirt popping at the seems as he reached up, grabbed Colonel Sheppard by the neck and pinned him against the wall. John groped at the man's arm, trying to loosen his grip so he could breathe, but otherwise did not fight him.

The man shoved his face close into John's and sneered with his beady, watery eyes. John grimaced as he inhaled the man's foul breath. "What's this I hear. You have plans to leave?" He squeezed harder, and John sputtered for breath. "Now how are you going to manage that?"

The entire tavern became silent in an instant as they watched John and the man. John kept his grip on the man's arm, gasping for breath, but made no other move to fight him. The man gave one final, powerful squeeze, boring his wicked gaze into John's, and suddenly let him go. John dropped to the ground, gasping and rubbing his neck.

The man turned to the silent crowd in the tavern. "He has plans to leave." He wiped his hand across his chest as if trying to clean it after having touched John. "Anyone else here have plans to leave?" The man looked around, his cold eyes challenging many around the room. "I didn't think so." He walked back over to John, who was still catching his breath on the ground. "You are new, so I'm sure you don't know why, do you?"

John looked the man in the eye, but said nothing.

The man grabbed John by the scruff of the neck again and forced him up. "I asked you a question, scum! Answer me!" He spoke each of these words slowly, growing louder at every word. "Do you know why no one else has plans to leave here?"

"No," John answered quietly.

"I will tell you then." The man again put his face in John's. John made no movement to retreat, and his face was as blank as if nothing was happening.

The man spoke in a dangerously low voice. "Listen carefully. You will not get a warning from me next time." He moved suddenly away again to address the whole crowd. "The reason why no one makes plans to leave....the reason why no one has ever left....is because no one can leave without my say so." He walked over to Surtic, grabbed her roughly by the arm, and dragged her over to John.

"You see this?" he motioned to the silver, metal collar around her neck. "It is a specially designed slave collar. I put one on all my belongings." Teyla found her arm unconsciously shoot the the ring around her neck.

"The first thing I do after every purchase is to place one around the neck of the new acquisition." He rubbed his grubby hand around Surtic's collar, smiling wickedly, his face distorted with pleasure. He eyed the collar around John's own neck with his beady eyes. "I track your every movement with these, and I ensure that you remain in bounds at all time."

He lifted his eyes, malice in his face. "And, most importantly, I ensure that what is mine stays mine. If you leave the boundaries of my land with the collar still around your neck, you will die a most horrible death." He laughed with a maniacal delight. "There is no escape. None can leave unless it is my will. Mine!"

He returned to John and pulled his face close and his voice low. "You will never leave this place." With that, he walked out with a swagger.

The crowd returned almost immediately to their activity, but it was more muted than before. John stood still for a moment, and then made for the door as if nothing had happened.

Teyla called out to him, "John!" He did not even pause, but continued out of the tavern as if nothing had happened.

Left alone, Teyla couldn't help but feel despair. She placed her head in her hands, trying to clear her mind.

"He was lying you know. At least part of it anyway." Surtic the barmaid sat down next to Teyla. Surtic was a young woman, barely of age. She had red hair, and a pretty face, peppered with freckles. She was thin and undernourished, as were most of the people in the area, and she looked prematurely careworn.

"I'm sorry?" Teyla responded, too many thoughts running through her mind to figure out what Surtic was speaking of.

Surtic moved her head, indicating the door. "The fat man. Quilp. He was lying about the part of owning us. He doesn't own us. He's a keeper. He makes the purchases, and he keeps us here, but he isn't calling the shots."

"Who is then?" Teyla asked, happy to uncover any information about their situation other than the little they had gathered since being taken here.

Surtic shrugged. "No one knows really." She took a deep breath and looked at her feet. "It's the same story for us all here. We were all bought at the slave market and brought here to work the mines. Quilp pretends to be more important than he is, but he keeps us in line because he can. Whoever he's working for lets him be in charge here. And then..." She trailed off and looked around quickly, checking to see if no one was listening.

Teyla urged her on. "And, then what?"

"Then, about once a year," she whispered, "a ship comes and takes some of us. I don't know where they go, but we never see them again."

"Taken? Why?"

Surtic shrugged. "My father used to say whoever is really running the place has something else in mind for us. Working the mines is just a fringe benefit to them." She laughed a defeated laugh. "Once you are here, all you can do is work, so Quilp doesn't make your life worse and pray you don't get taken."

She lowered her voice again. "If you are somehow making money, you best hide it as best you can. If Quilp finds it, he will take it. And, if you have been making arrangements to leave this place, don't. There are plenty of scoundrels that will take your money and drive off with you.....but as long as you have the collar on, you won't make it alive. It's no use, so just don't even try." Surtic shrugged again as if to say it wasn't worth it, and then walked away to start cleaning some tables.

Teyla closed her eyes, her mind reeling. She could not imagine feeling worse. The safety and confidence she had first felt at being stranded with John had melted away. These past few weeks had changed him like nothing had before. Now, instead of just wondering how to save themselves from this place, she now had to find a way to save John from himself. Stranded on an unknown planet after being sold at a slave market, unsure of where anyone else from Atlantis could be, and with no real ally, Teyla knew that their luck had run out. At one time, John seemed to be untouchable, able to get out of even the most incredible predicaments, and now all the near misses had finally caught up with him. Maybe, if John were himself, they could have come up with some plan, but he hadn't really been John Sheppard for a long time, and the road that led him here seemed to have broken him completely. To top it all off, to make Teyla more crushed than she had ever been before, she had no idea what had happened to her son, and no one to help her find him.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer:I do not own the Stargate franchise or Stargate: Atlantis. I, in fact, own very little, so I hope the owners don't mind me having a little fun with their creations. I'm only going to be borrowing Atlantis for a little while. I promise to put everyone back where I found them! However, if I did own SGA, I would treat it better than MGM!!

A/N:Reviews are most welcome, but please be gentle. I don't have a beta reader, so all mistakes I'll have to own myself! Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 3: Not in Kansas Anymore

"Richard Woolsey, you are wasting your time and that noise is starting to annoy me," El said blankly from a corner in her cell. She had herself half-propped up, one leg long, with her eyes closed. Richard had taken off his glasses – being the only 'tool' he had – and was trying to dig in the dirt around one of the bars.

"I think I'm making progress. This bar feels looser than when I first started." He paused for a moment to shake the bar and then continued. "Yeah. I really think it's working."

El muttered something in her native language, which drew Richard from his work. The words were spoken melodically, filled with mostly vowel sounds.

"Were you cursing at me?" He eyed her momentarily, trying not to stare at the strange symbols on her face.

She opened one eye. "Why?" she asked suspiciously.

Richard dusted off his glasses by running his fingers up and down the stems. "Because it sounded beautiful, whether the words were harsh or not. I almost wouldn't mind."

El chuckled softly. "I was merely wondering to myself why no one ever listens to me. I warned my people that this is the very thing that would happen, and yet here I am."

Richard began trying to bend the stem of his glasses straight again, the digging having made them crooked and hard to maneuver. "I'm all ears if you have a better plan for getting out of here. It's been nearly a day. We've had no food, no water and no contact with the Dockmaster or whoever is keeping us here." His voice became muffled as he turned away from El and bent low to resume his work. "We may have been left here for dead, and if we don't try to find our own way out soon, I may just get hungry enough to gnaw my arm off."

El opened both eyes and lifted herself up with a small grunt. "In truth, it has been only 18 hours. How long do you measure your days by?" She walked closer to Richard's cell, peeking through the bars that separated them to observe his work.

"Really? Only 18? I'm hungrier than that." He laughed lowly as he thought how much he sounded like Dr. McKay. He stopped his digging and again rattled the bar. "We measure our days in 24-hour increments."

To El, the bar did not seem to move the slightest, but Richard resumed his work, seemingly satisfied that it was loosening. "I am accustomed to 34-hour days. I can see why you are more restless. To me, it's only been half a day, not nearing a full one."

She began to pace around her cell, observing their surroundings. "I will confess, however, that I am surprised that we have been left alone so long. Something else must be keeping the Dockmaster." El turned back to Richard again to watch him dig.

"With the way my luck has been going, it's probably my initial captors trying to make a deal with my most recent ones." Richard scoffed and started digging with more fervor.

"Initial captors?" El inquired, her accent deepening with the inquisitiveness of her tone.

Richard stopped digging and looked up, staring blankly at the wall in front of him as if the memory of what had happened was playing behind his eyes. He began to speak, but started and stopped many times, trying to find the right words or the right place to start. "My people and I....our city was....occupied by invaders, I guess. To be perfectly honest, I have no idea how it happened," he finally blurted out.

He rubbed his eyes roughly, trying to sort it all out in his mind and sighed defeatedly. "I feel like there are long blanks that I don't remember. I know I woke up on their ship somehow. I was bound to three other people. All of us were bound together in small groups." He turned to look at her. "And then....something....happened....there were shots fired. I think..." He paused and swallowed deeply before continuing, "I think a few of my people may have died." He said the last part in a near whisper.

"Colonel Sheppard, the military leader of our group, and his team rushed our captors suddenly, and yelled for the rest of us to run. The people I was tied to took the chance and ran for it. There was so much going on around us, I don't even know how we got out of there. I just remember so many screams....and I think I slipped in blood."

He shook his head, trying to see the memory more clearly. "We ran but we couldn't find anywhere to hide. The ship must have been teeming with these people. They were everywhere. It was like Frankenstein monsters coming out of the walls." He said it almost as if the thought disgusted him. "One of the others got us untied, but we were becoming pinned. They were _everywhere_ we turned. Then there was smoke, like tear gas and then stunner shots, and we were scattered in different directions and separated." He spoke slowly because he found it hard to remember the exact sequence of what had happened.

"I turned down this one hallway. I thought I was trapped, but then I saw what looked like an escape pod." He shook his head, and the tone of his voice changed, becoming deeper. "It was either get recaptured, killed or worse....or go in the escape pod. So I went in the escape pod like a coward." He resumed his digging with renewed vigor.

El walked back over to his side of the cell. "It is not cowardly to run, Richard Woolsey. Many times I have run and it has saved my skin. It is strategic to retreat and regroup. I am sure others did the same."

Richard said nothing, but continued digging, his shoulders stiff and turned completely away from El. She continued as if they had not had the previous conversation. "What is the name of the planet you were taken from?"

Richard was silent for so long El did not think he would answer her. After a time though, he responded, "I don't know the name of the planet. We had just landed."

El cocked her head to the side, her long plait falling over her shoulder. "But you said they took your city?

"Yes."

"You built a city the moment you landed?" She cocked up an eyebrow as she said this, clearly unbelieving.

Richard turned to El again. "No." He remained silent, trying think of a way to explain it. Finally he decided to just come out and say it. "Our ship is also a city."

El looked him in the eye, the blues of hers calculating. "Your spaceship is also a city?" she repeated slowly as if trying to make the words make sense. Richard nodded, but didn't say anything further. "You traveled here on a flying city from another galaxy. This city you landed on some random planet, unknown to you, and immediately upon your arrival on said planet, you were invaded?" Richard nodded again, and El burst into laughter.

"What?" he asked defensively.

El again began to speak in her native tongue, which coupled with her laughter sounded almost like singing. Richard cracked a small smile as he was sure his story sounded more like a tall tale than the actual truth. "Yes, yes. Let's all have a laugh at the crazy man."

She looked directly at him, her completely blue eyes full of mirth. "I thought before you were crazy. All your nonsense about Ancients and the Wraith and whatnot." She turned her head to the side and held her gaze at him, giving Richard the distinct feeling he was being scanned. "But now, I don't think you are. I think you are honestly lost, probably from another galaxy even." She paused for a moment, a wry smile forming on her lips. "And, you've stumbled upon the worst underbelly of my own galaxy." She again spoke in her native tongue.

Richard had no idea how to respond and so remained silent. El, however, continued after a small pause. "Since I now believe you to be completely clueless as to your true situation here, I will try to explain things as far as I know them. It might help you to understand what has happened. If I may?"

"Please do," Richard responded, placing his now crooked glasses back on his face and focusing his full attention on El. He again was struck by the strangeness of the symbols on her arms and face, but figured that was a question better left for later.

El went back to her original corner, and propped herself up much like before, this time both legs long. She rearranged the holster on her leg before leaning her head back and closing her eyes. "I do not know if this place is what you called the Pegasus Galaxy. In my own language, it is called Alatali. It was once a prosperous galaxy, but after a thousand years of the Great Ones, it lies much in ruin."

"Great Ones?"

El scoffed, a look of displeasure forming on her face. "Believe me, I do not think they are great. It is the only name for themselves they have ever given us. It is all we know to call them by." Her tone was low, anger sounding in her words. "They came here, maybe a thousand or more years ago, seeking refuge from their own galaxy. There are many theories as to why they had to leave their homes, but to be honest, no one has ever had a conversation with one and lived, so to this day we do not know their original or true purpose. We do know, however, that they were responsible for forming the slaving guilds."

Richard stared at her blankly. "Slaving guilds?" He paused for a moment, and then things began to click in his mind.. "You mean, I was going to be...my people were taken to be slaves?" Images of the Goa'uld and the Ori flashed across his mind.

El nodded. "There are three major slaving guilds, each working within their own territory. Out here anyone who cannot pay enough or who cannot fight them off becomes a slave. All the worlds out here are slave worlds." Richard felt his mouth open in surprise, but shock would not allow him to close it. His mind raced with the possibilities of what could happen and what had happened to the people of Atlantis.

El pushed her head back even further until she would have been staring at the ceiling had her eyes been opened. "Out here, there is no law but the slaving guilds. If you go further into the galaxy, closer to the Midrealm, there are several large ruling bodies, which can afford to keep their people safe. Once past the Midrealm, though, is the territory of the Great Ones. It is where all slaves are taken eventually." El rubbed her neck, leveled her head, shot her eyes open and looked at Richard directly. "Once you become a slave, you are sent to work on one of the slave planets here. Mining, farming, textiles, really any kind of labor they tell you to. And then, for some reason, they gather up some of the slaves, take them past the Midrealm to the seat of the Great Ones, Kaluak, and those taken are never heard from again. Then the slaving guilds round up a new batch of slaves to replace the old, and the cycle continues." El paused and cleared her throat. "After so many years of it though, there aren't as many people as there used to be, and the guilds come ever closer to the Midrealm. Soon even they won't be safe."

Richard approached her side of the cell, grasping the bars that separated them. "Why not run. Why not run as far away from the Great Ones as you can?"

El looked at him, a sad smile on her face. "Don't you think we've tried? They've placed barriers all around us. The first is the Barrens."

"The Barrens?"

"The Great Ones occupy one side of our galaxy and the Barrens occupy the other. We think it must have once been full of stars and other worlds, but now it has been totally destroyed. There is nothing but craters and dust. I'm sure they'll do the same out here once the worlds are bled dry." She started to play absently with the holster on her thigh. "No one knows how long it goes on for. We have no idea what is on the other side."

"But, why not try? Surely whatever is there is better than what will happen to you here?" Richard gripped the bars in front of him and stared at El sitting in her corner. He did not like the picture she was painting.

El shrugged her shoulders. "I've no doubt that many would try their luck navigating through, but the Great Ones have place a powerful minefield there. It stretches across the entire Barrens. The individual mines are polarized to be magnetic. If a ship even nears the Barrens, the mines are drawn to it, and it is destroyed." She rocked her head back and forth to relieve the tenseness in her neck. "You see, they thought of everything."

"But what about going around the Barrens? It might take awhile, but even years in space would be preferable to years in slavery." Richard was growing increasingly alarmed as the feeling of being trapped was sinking in.

"They thought of that too!" El said with mock excitement. "The Great Ones have placed devices that run along the entire Outer Rim. I have no idea how they work or the science behind them. All I know is that they block all hyperspace. If you cross them with a hyperdrive active, your ship will tear apart." Richard leaned against the bars of the cell and sank down to a sitting position. "In this galaxy, in this place, there is no escape," El continued, her voice grave. "The Great Ones have been careful and thorough. They would rather us all die, I suppose, than to let even one person pass."

Richard began breathing deeply as panic seeped in. El sat up a bit. "Richard Woolsey, are you feeling well?"

"No, I am not feeling well," he found himself shouting without really meaning to. "I am about to be made a slave. All my people – well those still alive – will be too. I am lost. Atlantis is lost." He found his hands gesturing wildly as he became more agitated. "I have no city. I have no ship. I have no people or team to count on. I have no skills to get myself out of this situation. I have no idea how we even got here. And, there is nowhere for me to turn because this entire galaxy is one big holding cell for slaves!"

Richard put his head in his hands. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to yell. I'm overwhelmed at the moment and just frustrated." He tried rolling his shoulders back to release the tension. "More than anything, I just wish I knew what was going to happen next. I can't take much more of this."

"Oh, I think we are going to be uncovering our fate very soon." El stood up suddenly and dusted herself off.

"What makes you say that?"

"Listen," she said motioning to the door outside their cells. "Someone is coming. I believe we are about to meet our captor." El formed a fist with her hands several times followed by stretching her fingers long, as if warming up her hands for a fight.

Richard rushed to his feet as well and braced himself as the door opened. Overwhelmed as he was, the bureaucrat in him began thinking up as many ideas as possible of talking himself and El out of this situation. He only hoped that this time fate would be on his side, since lately he hadn't been so lucky in the get out of jail free department.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer:I do not own the Stargate franchise or Stargate: Atlantis. I, in fact, own very little, so I hope the owners don't mind me having a little fun with their creations. I'm only going to be borrowing Atlantis for a little while. I promise to put everyone back where I found them! However, if I did own SGA, I would treat it better than MGM!!

A/N:Reviews are most welcome, but please be gentle. I don't have a beta reader, so all mistakes I'll have to own myself! Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 4: Making Ends Meet

Teyla drew the hood of her cloak tighter around her face, so that not much more than her eyes were showing. Even in the pitch black of night, she felt exposed. She was thankful though that this part of the street had no lights or lamps. She tried to slow her footsteps so that they were all but silent, even though she wanted to reach her destination as soon as possible. By now, she had the location memorized, even in the dark.

She approached a small, worn house at the end of the street and went through the front door without hesitation. Once in the front entranceway, she ignored the room on the right and immediately turned to the room on the left.

Inside the room was a small, rectangular wood table with benches on either side. A single lantern hung from the ceiling in a far corner, burning so dimly it was merely glowing, casting many shadows around the room. Teyla took a seat at the table and lowered the hood of her cloak. She sat rigidly and did not fidget while she waited.

More than a minute passed in stillness before a small, thin man appeared at a door across from her. He walked forward briskly, and as he sat down said, "What have you got for us today?"

Teyla reached underneath her cloak and pulled three large, glowing rocks from her pocket. She placed them carefully on the table. The man reached out and took the first rock, examining it with a strange type of magnifying glass he had taken from his dingy shirt pocket.

"Excellent specimens this time, Teyla. This Zoite is nearly pure. How did you manage to get so good a sample out of the mines undetected?"

"Very carefully," Teyla said with emphasis.

The man put down the first rock and rubbed the second with his thumb. "I can give you 1,000 itra for each."

Teyla raised an eyebrow. "1,500, Puman. That is what the agreement was."

Puman shrugged. "Our initial arrangement was for much larger quantities. You were bringing in ten to twelve specimens before. This is the first time you have come in over a week, and you bring only three. Selling two or three at a time to my buyer is dangerous. Small quantities make it seem like I've stolen it, not mined it myself. If he thinks it is stolen, he will ask questions. If he asks too many, it was raise suspicions here. I will be out of my largest supplier of Zoite, and Quilp would probably have me killed. There are so few Zoite mines left, I cannot risk it."

He quickly took up the three stones and laid out the 3,000 itra upon the table as Teyla rubbed her neck in exasperation. "What happened to your help? What happened to your partner?" he asked suspiciously.

Teyla's face darkened as she looked away. Puman continued. "The one who came before and made the initial arrangements. Sheppard. Where is he now? Sending you all alone is a dangerous and careless thing to do."

Teyla cleared her throat uncomfortably. She was more than aware of the danger she had faced coming here alone and would face on her way back. "He had a long day, and so we agreed that I would come alone. You must understand that it has been harder to sneak out the Zoite. Security measures have tightened. That is why we have so little this time."

Puman laughed quietly. "That is not what I heard."

"And, what have you heard?" Teyla asked defensively.

"That he is wasting away to nothing." He ran a hand through his hair. "That he barely has the strength to mine anymore. You know, it's not for some people...being a slave. Some can take it for a little while, but it wears on an already weary soul. He's lost weight, I know, from a loss of appetite. I saw him walking home one night, looking worn and almost frail. Looked like he hadn't shaved in awhile too, and he certainly hasn't been working hard at cleaning himself up either." He sighed and shook his head slowly. "His work is suffering, and Quilp knows it. He already doesn't like Sheppard, which makes the situation worse. If he doesn't shape up soon, it will be the Sundarbands for him."

"Sundarbands?" Teyla asked.

Puman rubbed his nose harshly. "The Sundarbands are where Quilp sends the old, sick and dying to work until their last breath. They have the workers harvest velange there, a plant used as a pleasure drug on many worlds. They work in the fields, eat and sleep in tents in the fields. Day and night they are there, sometimes sleeping where they fall from exhaustion until they just can't get up anymore...harvesting until they die."

Teyla looked appalled. "The Sundarbands, are they here on this planet?"

Puman shrugged his shoulders. "Who knows? None of us have ever been beyond the boundaries of the city and the mines. Quilp's collars see to that."

Teyla's mind was racing. She had known for some time that John was making himself a target. His lethargy and loss of will was growing worse day by day. But, she had no idea just how much he was risking by his behavior. Now, more than ever the urgency of their leaving pressed upon her. She held up the money Puman had given her.

"I need more, Puman. We are close to having enough itra to buy passage from this place. I need to get him out of here before something terrible happens to him."

Puman shook his head. "I cannot risk it, Teyla. And, to be honest, you shouldn't risk it either. They are space pirates. Untrustworthy bunch. It is just as likely that you have been working your hands to the bone, risking your neck to smuggle the Zoite to me for nothing. How do you know they just won't take your money and run? How do you know that they can deactivate the collars and you won't die as soon as they take you beyond the boundaries?"

Teyla spoke gravely. "I have asked them these same questions. I know that they can come and go as they please, and Quilp cannot stop them. They seem to know everything about the layout of the mines, Quilp's security systems, and pretty much anything else that goes on around here. They must have been here once to know and understand what they do. They claim to be old workers that escaped, and if this is true, they know how to get the collars off. They say they want to save as many people as are willing to risk it, because they know what it is like to be here."

Puman looked at her carefully. "Trusting them is a pretty big gamble."

"It is our only chance."

Puman reached into his pocket and pulled out 2,000 more itra. "Thank you," Teyla said sincerely, relief flooding her.

"It's your life your risking, I guess, not mine," he said as he pushed the bench away from the table.

"Puman, wait," Teyla asked as he began to stand. He looked at her inquisitively, but settled back into his seat. "Have you been able to find out anything about where my son might be?" No matter how hard she tried, she could not keep her voice from wavering as she spoke.

Puman set his face apologetically. "Not much, I am sorry, Teyla. I did try very hard." Teyla felt her eyes watering. "No one knows what happens to the young that are taken or even born."

"What do you mean?" Teyla asked.

"I have never seen a baby or child in my life. Most of us never have. When one of the slaves becomes pregnant, she is taken away. She returns after childbirth without the child. Most of those I spoke with say that the young are raised away from their parents so that their educations can be controlled. They are taught that they must work and never question the system or the Great Ones. Once they are old enough to work, they are released. We get new arrivals here sometimes, of young people, so I don't doubt it."

Teyla let out a terrible sigh and started to shake with effort to keep from crying. "This is not all terrible news, Teyla. Your son is most probably still alive. And, while it can't be a great comfort as to why, it should at least be good to know that someone is taking care that he does grow up to be a healthy young man." Teyla nodded, but could not speak.

For a moment, Puman looked as if he might want to give her a reassuring pat on the shoulder, but thought better of it and left through the same door he came in.

Teyla sat stock still, trying to collect herself. Having to talk so openly about her son affected her more than she was prepared for. She instead tried to focus entirely on her newest problem. If John did not shape up soon, he would be taken. She would be separated from her last link to Atlantis. She would have no idea how to find him ever again. Her only hope was the man, Luxyn, who had promised them passage from this world. If she could gather the money quickly, she could buy their escape before John was taken. She carefully put her hood back tight around her face and rose from the table. As she exited the old house and entered the street, she began to plan ways she might be able to get more Zoite. She wondered if she could trust anyone else to help her. She also wondered how much she should even risk to save John Sheppard when he already seemed gone.

_End Note: I'm going to be out of town this weekend, so my next chapter might not be posted for a little while. I hope you are enjoying the story so far!_


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